


The Fall of Man

by motoroilfreeway



Series: Small World [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Not A Happy Ending, mafiaboss! italy, policeman!germany, possible camoes from characters seen in seduction of the inno, sads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:39:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11976528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motoroilfreeway/pseuds/motoroilfreeway
Summary: The genesis says that man has fallen from god’s graces when man defied His orders and ate from the tree of knowledge of right and wrong. In Feliciano’s case, he had fallen the moment he tasted the first drops of true love...then fell harder when he started to seek it out the moment he finds it again, more than twenty years later. (A seduction of the innocent spin-off)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spin-off of one of my fics "seduction of the innocent" (a usukus-centric fic) and tbh I can't remember anymore which of the two fics came to me first, since all I seem to be comfortable writing is usukus but geritager is like, my otp or something. LOL.
> 
> This scene here takes place during seduction of the innocent's chapter 3..that is also where this fic begins. There's really no need to read seduction of the innocent if ya'll not a fan of usuk, because I don't really mind, I made this fic in such a way that you won't be missing anything if you chose not to read it at all (And vice-versa, to the seduction of the innocent fans who saw this fic in passing), and mainly because seduction of the innocent had tons of red warning signs. Please take them seriously, if you still wanted to read it after seeing the tags. 
> 
> This fic in comparison is much more vanilla, I swear...or not. We'll see.
> 
> WARNINGS for violence, blood, and mentions of torture. I'll make sure to keep posting and/or updating warnings as the chapters come up.

                New York is a strange place.

In all the years Feliciano has lived his life in this big city, always bustling with life and people, New York has never ceased to amaze him. From its huge buildings that burn bright in the dark of night, illuminating the city in such a way that makes it seem like the city never sleeps to its people who seemed intent on keeping the tourists think that way.

_Speaking of…_

Feliciano finds his steps slowing into a complete halt---almost. He squints his eyes and walks closer to where this certain _something_ is that people had found very interesting---enough to make them leave their posts in the city’s ordinate routines---and notes with curiosity that the certain _something_ he had been wondering has something to do with his restaurant.

Or maybe, this certain something _is_ his restaurant.

He doesn’t like pressing himself close to people who smell and breathe air so he settles with standing on his tiptoes, craning his neck and straining his eyes to get a look at his own restaurant that is in very high possibility of being severely damaged---considering the amount of crowd in the area, their phones raised and snapping pictures; the New York crime lab already at the scene, with the New York police nearby, talking to anyone who is willing to talk.

He frowns at the sight, one of his hands raising to hover over his head to protect his eyes from the sudden flare of the sun. His eyes flicker momentarily to the side---

His eyes widen.

Suddenly he finds himself running, crashing into the crowd with muffled screams of “excuse me! Let me through, I’m important!”

Then he crashes into something.

It was something huge, large, and probably muscle-bound too: things that Feliciano honestly find terrifying---terrifying enough that he couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes, despite the fact that he had already broken into the crowd.

He freezes in his spot, eyes squinted shut. He was about to open his mouth to scream an apology, and probably prepare to be on his hands and knees to do so when a voice above him speaks, “And what makes you think you are _important---”_ the word ‘important’ is almost hissed but the voice being deep as it is, it comes more as a cross between a growl and a hiss.

Even its voice is as terrifying as its owner and Feliciano’s mind started running a mile a minute, drawing out imaginary faces with terrifying arms, it’s hands huge enough to crush Feliciano’s head like an egg.

“---to break into a crime scene?” It finishes. When Feliciano failed to reply in time, the voice sighs heavily. He flinches when he feels a heavy hand land on his shoulder, and only that.

He breathes, slowly through his nose and realises with a jolt that, yes, he had forgotten to breathe.

_Snap out of it, Feliciano_.

“…Sir?” The voice says, almost sighs out. The voice sounded a little bit tired, if not fatigued.

Feliciano almost feels bad for whoever this is.

So he breathes in, slowly, like how Antonio had always instructed him in these kinds of situations and slowly opens his eyes just a crack.

He was greeted by a corpse of a boy, its eyes wide and blown as they stare right at him, like they’re telling him that ‘ _this is all your fault,’_ and he yelps, jumping away.

It would have been all fine and good, if his feet didn’t twist below him and he ended up crashing face first into the rough concrete. Some people close enough at least has some sense in them to move away from Feliciano’s body as it slammed heavily but no one has the heart even bother catching him before he actually crashed.

“Ugh,” Feliciano groans, feeling something warm gush out of his nose as he wrinkles them in disdain.

His brother is going to kill him later.

“Hey,” A voice says. The same voice from before.

This time, Feliciano finally manages to see the face to accompany that voice and that chest and the sight itself causes his limbs to go weak.

Eyes sharp like steel and cheeks so sharp Feliciano thinks he might cut himself trying to touch those even for a moment, and oh---he’s handsome.

Just so lovely.

He finds his eyes wandering down his chest, eyes wide but trying not to be, curious to what he’ll see next but then the voice causes him to snap his back up, to the handsome man’s face.

For a moment, he was about to be distracted by that face again; those cheekbones can’t be _too_ perfect, can they? But then his eyes flicker back the scene behind the man and---oh.

“Oh,” He hears himself say, eyes turning down solemnly to the ground that rolls into the sight he had previously seen.

“He’s so young…” He mutters, be it in sadness or disappointment, he couldn’t quite tell. His eyes roam around the crime scene, the area already barricaded with police tapes and people from the crime lab---probably---their hands raised and meant to block curious spectators, pulling their camera phones out of the way. He sees two more bodies on the ground, their eyes wide open and lifeless, flickering every once in a while when their lenses were hit with the camera’s flashes, courtesy of course, of the New York Crime Lab.

His remark had not gone unnoticed.

“You know that boy?” Feliciano’s eyes flick back up to the man before him, who he belatedly realises is a member of the New York Police. Something akin to disappointment swells deep in his chest and he inhales, trying to clear it all out. Then he nods, slowly, in agreement, his head turning down.

“How would I not?” He sighs. He turns his sad eyes to the young, dead boys. “That’s Arman,” then he points to the other two, “and those are Erick and Aaron.”

It doesn’t sound like the right thing to say, when Feliciano notices the way the officer eyes him strangely after that. “And how would you know them?”

“They like to eat here when school’s over. The food’s so great they’d rather stay in school than cut classes so they could eat here all the time for free.”

More scrutinizing stares plus the addition of bright blue eyes burning a hole through his head but it nods anyway, as if taking all Feliciano had stated all into his mental notebook to be shown to the class later. Which he probably did, knowing what the other is. Feliciano doesn’t mind, he’s quite alarmed to realise.

The more Feliciano talked, the more he notices that the man before him is quite the by-the-book kind of man. He finds it very charming, and he feels his cheeks grow hot, his lips pulling themselves into a grin.

When the police man has yet to reply, Feliciano finds it proper to add some more on the _how_ s and _why_ s.

“I own the _Coliseum_.” He announces, rather than states. He feels a chuckle start to bubble from the back of his throat when he hears the other almost sputter in surprise, his legs taking a few step back from Feliciano as he gawks.

“You do?”

If his grin could get any wider, it did. “Of course.”

“I did say I was _important_ , didn’t I?”

 

                There’s a resounding slap of skin on skin throughout the once-silent hallway. The people around were immediate to turn their heads towards the source of the sound: two men, one has his hand raised, palm poised into the position he used to slap the other with. His counterpart has his head turned, smart enough to keep his eyes closed and his mouth shut, letting the other to lead the conversation into whatever he wanted in a form of apology.

In an outsider’s point of view, they would be wondering why would the victim apologize to their attacker.

In Feliciano’s defense, the victim in question, this is Lovino. The older brother who knows a lot of things about their bad side of the business better than Feliciano ever could, and the irony isn’t lost on the brothers.

“ _What the fuck was that_?” Lovino hissed through his gritted teeth, his shoulders tense and his eyes blazing like liquid fire. None of those very obvious body language of Lovino’s rage affected Feliciano’s reasoning, much to Lovino’s ever-growing temper, however, as Feliciano merely turns his head back towards his older brother again, his face calm, “An interrogation. I’m important to the case because I claimed to know the victims.”

Lovino reacted as expected. He jumped, arms raised. Feliciano had predicted rather than saw what’s going to come next and turned his head away and closed his eyes and mouth shut again as his brother approached him and started pounding at his chest and shoulders.

“Can you hear yourself, for fuck’s sake? You _claimed_ you know them, you literally didn’t need to speak up, but no! You have to fucking go out there and declare to these,” He points madly around them, his arms flailing, angrily looking for a solid target to land on and finding nothing but air. He opens and closes his mouth for a moment, breathing hard through his nose as he searches for a word that would be offending but not too much to get enough attention and fails, so he settles for a furious set of angry and disgusted facial expressions before moving forward with his lecture, “that.” Another painful pound at Feliciano’s chest. “You.” Pound. “Are.” Pound. “Fucking.” Pound. “Important!” A punch aimed right at his face.

At this point, they have gathered enough attention that someone had foreseen what’s going to happen at the end of Lovino’s sentence and managed to pull them apart. Unfortunately, Lovino has a swift right hook and managed to land a blow right before they got pulled away and Feliciano’s sorry enough that he didn’t even bother jumping out of his brother’s line of fire and accepted it all willingly. The force had him landing on his back and he finds himself blinking at the ceiling, wincing as the light hit him directly in the eyes, and again when he felt his nose start to bleed anew. At least this time, his brother doesn’t have a reason to get angry about it again when he’s the one who did it. Hopefully.

“Are you okay? Can you stand?” Someone says above him. It takes his eyes a while to focus but he managed to nod his head and mutter a “Yeah, thanks,” before trying to stand on his own. Then a hand is offered that he graciously accepts before he gets pulled up. On his way up, his vision spins and he almost collapses again if it wasn’t for the same person who caught him by the shoulders.

“Thanks,” he nods at them. Then he looks around and is surprised to see his brother gone.

“Where’s...”

“Some of the guys thought it was smart to take him out and help him get some air.” They tell him. He turns his head to look at who this was and his eyes widen in recognition. It was the same cop he talked to back at his restaurant.

“Hey, it’s you,” He says, pointing at the man’s uniform. He gets a nod. Then the cop’s eyes narrow in concern, his head turning towards where his colleagues would have brought Feliciano’s brother to.

“I don’t suppose your brother liked you inside the interrogation room without him...”

Feliciano blinks and notices that the cop’s gaze is now focused on him, or most likely, his bleeding nose. He flushes in embarrassment, tries to cover it with a laugh and a smile. “Oh, heh,” He tries to look presentable again by rubbing some of the blood off with the sleeve of his shirt, inwardly tearing up at how much of a waste this is, ruining one of his best shirts forever, but if he didn’t, who knows what the cop will think of him? He keeps his arm across his nose, also covering the area by his mouth in case he’d made it worse by spreading the blood everywhere and it wasn’t like the bleeding has stopped yet anyway.

“That’s just his way of saying he loves me and is afraid for what will happen to me because of what I did.”

This made the cop’s brows to furrow in confusion and doubt. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Well, it is.” Feliciano shrugs, fighting down the urge to frown and defend his brother’s honour. Lovino is not an abusive brother. It just happens that sometimes emotions get the better of him. It runs in the family, really.

He pulls his arm away slightly and frowns at the severity of his bleeding, then frowns harder when blood started dripping to the floor. The bleeding has already reached his chin and is still continuing downwards. He’s making a mess.

He’s about to ask the cop if he can be allowed to go home now that he’s said his part, only to have his sight of the floor to be blocked by a white handkerchief. He looks up to its source to see the cop with his arm outstretched. Feliciano felt his face flush red and he takes a step back.

“Oh, no, no, no,” He starts, his free hand already trying to wave the offered hand away to no avail as the cop proceeds to counter his steps back with steps forward and a very insistent hand.

“Please,” The cop insists with stretched-thin lips, shaking his head. For a second, Feliciano was at a  loss, his leg doubtful if another step back would do the trick this time and his eyes looking everywhere, searching for a way out only to find none. His gaze flicks back to the cop and his outstretched hand.

“Well, um, if you insist,” He says in the end, gingerly taking the white cloth from the other’s hand and feels his own get drenched in sweat when he feels his fingers brush with the man’s hand as he takes the handkerchief into his hands.

He looks away, feeling those cool blues too cold and steely as he presses the cloth into his nose and takes in the scent of flowers and hints of detergent. He felt his face grow warmer, and he sneaks a glance at the cop before him before laughing shyly as he tries to wipe the blood that got smeared all over his cheeks and chin with the man’s handkerchief.

“I promise I’ll wash this properly for you,” He says for compensation.

There’s a frown. “I don’t mind.”

Feliciano knows one mustn’t look into things too much lest they break themselves or worse, but he did anyway and felt giddy inside. Luckily, he was quick to crush it all and squeeze everything inside a mental “burn later” box in the back of his head.

“You needn’t bother yourself to give it back, really.” The cop tells him, shaking his head and gesturing to the handkerchief.

Feliciano disagrees. “No, no, oh, this is too much already. Let me make up for all of this, we already bothered you guys enough.” He gestures to the station and he’s glad to note that the cop is not agreeing or disagreeing to that.

“So, uh,” Feliciano restarts, fidgeting. He begins by trying to rub the cloth on the area right below his nose, still feeling the ghost of his warm blood dripping free. He’s glad to note that the cop isn’t looking at his bleeding nose, but right at his eyes. Under the cloth, Feliciano gives him a smile.

“How do I contact you after I get this clean and dry?”

 

                “You’re early.”

Feliciano jumps when he hears his brother’s voice right after he opened his door. The lights are off and if he didn’t know better, he would’ve been terrified to know that he just heard his brother’s toneless voice coming from the pitch-black void that is supposed to be his living room.

Fortunately for Feliciano, he _does_ know better.

He finds himself blinking slowly, breathing out through his nose as he closes the door behind him and proceeds to find the light switch. He looks at the direction of his bedroom, where he knows Lovino is in, probably eating his chocolates again as he watches one of Feliciano’s, as he liked to call it, “stupid gay Italian movies.”

“Doesn’t have much to do when _The Coliseum_ is closed for investigation.” He takes off his shoes in favour of his soft cotton slippers, unbuttoning the topmost part of his shirt as he makes his way to his room. What sight welcomes him isn’t that much surprising, when you’ve been seeing it for the last few years or so.

“ _Come non detto_? I thought you saw that already last week.” Feliciano tips his head to the large screen stuck on his wall by the foot of his bed, the aforementioned film playing. Lovino doesn’t spare him much of a glance at first, shoving a piece of chocolate into his mouth. He lets it stay in his mouth for a while, content to let his tongue run through its velvety texture and sucking when the layers started to unravel over his tongue. He licks at his fingers then taps at the empty space beside him, a silent invitation for Feliciano to lie on his stomach with his brother on the bed.

“His boyfriend’s gayer than he is,” He says once Feliciano is settled well beside him, eyes glued to the screen. Feliciano spares the screen another glance, his eyes almost wincing at how bright it is with his bedroom lights off and sees just in time how Mattia’s father just called Edu a thief for seeing him wearing his son’s jersey.Edu obviously appeared offended and now Mattia’s father is asking who Edu is. Feliciano doesn’t need to watch any further what will happen next, as he owns the movie and remembers every vivid detail of every movie he owned after he had watched them just once.

Instead, he chooses to look at his brother. He still has his attention on the screen; a hand wrapped protectively around Feliciano’s box of chocolate that he disappointedly notes is one of those expensive ones mixed with wine that was given to him by a close friend as a present last month for his successful new recipe.

“I’m sorry.” Feliciano tells Lovino, eyeing his brother’s profile sadly as he rests his head on his arms.

He knows that Lovino has heard him loud and clear when he sees how his brother’s hand holding a piece of chocolate into his mouth pauses midway before continuing where it had left off like nothing had happened. He could have gotten Feliciano to believe that he never heard him, but the damage has already been done when Lovino makes the obvious mistake of chewing the chocolate right after he shoved it into his mouth, making a sticky mess of sweet on his teeth.

He takes his time chewing, then sucking his teeth until the sweet tang on his mouth is also gone before sucking at his fingers once again until they’re clean. It took him a very long time.

Edu has already decided that there’s no point in their relationship if Mattia isn’t brave enough to introduce him to his family---To acknowledge him and Mattia’s own sexuality.

“For what?” Lovino says, lowly. Too low for Feliciano to hear if he wasn’t listening properly.

“For making my _fratello_ worry.”

Lovino grabs the remote, pausing the movie. He finally turns his attention on Feliciano, whole and true. “What makes you think I was worried?”

He raises a hand to card through Feliciano’s hair that Feliciano is more than happy to lean into. “You came rushing as soon as you heard the cops got a hold of me.” He chuckles softy, “you didn’t even let Fernando finish.”

“How’s your face?”

“Fine. I’m hard-headed, aren’t I?” He lied. Either way, it felt like Lovino knew already and didn’t bother to call him on it as he continued speaking to him softly, his hands softer on him.

He shakes his head, “That’s not what it meant, moron.”

“Sorry.”

“Three strikes and you’re out.”

Feliciano shakes his head, laughing softly. It didn’t bother him that his brother doesn’t find anything in this conversation funny, his voice just as toneless and his expression ever passive. Almost haunted.

“They wouldn’t be able to trace anything back to me. It’s going to be all Kirkland’s.” He tells his brother, trying to soothe the haunted look in his expression.

“When did you hear about that?”

“Just a while ago.” He sighs, looking away with a sad frown. “He brought a kid along, and I swear,” He looks back at his brother with an earnest expression, “I didn’t know any of the boys had it in them---I don’t even know why they would do it, we’re _friends_ with Kirkland.”

“What did you expect when you gave them guns?”

Feliciano doesn’t turn his head away this time but averts his gaze. He knows Lovino is right. “I wanted them to be able to protect themselves.” He argues anyway.

Lovino’s expression becomes chiding, his hand moving to pat his head once firmly. “ _Fratello_ , you have to put in it your little,” He taps his fore and middle fingers at the side of Feliciano’s head hard, making the younger brother wince but didn’t pull away, “cotton-filled brain that your boys are just that. Boys.”

He stares intently into his younger brother’s eyes, big and trusting, “They’re young and thinks their lives are too short so in the end, they follow the fates they carved for themselves. That stupidity killed them.” Feliciano frowns at his brother’s words and he looks down, studying his arms.

“Edgar, Justin, and Neil. You don’t think...?” Lovino shakes his head at him, “This is Kirkland we’re talking about.” He appeared like he had already given up at the hope that three of Feliciano’s boys could be alive. Feliciano would have been mad just to look at his brother’s expression right now, but he knows that Lovino is right. _This is Kirkland we’re talking about_ , it isn’t even words that were said for the sake of putting Feliciano down, but his brother stating a fact like how the sun is hot and the water is wet. Kirkland barely showed people mercy, no matter what their intentions are. Feliciano still finds himself praying for the people unfortunate enough to be involved and sometimes he cries when he hears about a new child Kirkland has fancied. _Those poor children..._

If Feliciano could, he would’ve objected to their family’s alliance with the man, but with their current status and power, they need his help. They need his help very much.

So when Lovino said that there’s no use hoping for the impossible, all Feliciano could do was turn his head left and right in denial, closing his eyes. A tear trickles down on the side of his cheeks and his brother wipes it away with the back of his hand.

“It’s not fair, they’re just kids.” He sniffs, feeling his own voice break as he thinks about his boys---their hopes and dreams and their families.

“That’s another thing you should remember,” Lovino reminds him, pushing head close towards Feliciano’s until their foreheads touch. Then Lovino pulls away only to slam his head against Feliciano’s, making the younger wince once again. Inwardly, Feliciano wanted to tell his brother that this is why he’s getting stupider by Lovino’s standards. Despite that, he’s still smart enough to be quiet.

Lovino shook his head. “The world isn’t fair---It wasn’t fair to us and I bet your God---“ Feliciano’s lips turn down at his brother’s choice of words, “---that it wasn’t fair even on Kirkland either. We just coped better than he did.”

In that regard, Feliciano couldn’t disagree.

He nods, his gaze fixed on his arms. Lovino doesn’t look like he’s concerned much about his brother’s sudden silence and proceeds to tap Feliciano’s cheek with his palm gently.

“Come on,” He tips head towards the kitchen. “Let’s put something on that bruise.”

It makes Feliciano blink up at him, surprised. He presses a palm to where Lovino had previously tapped and winces when it hurts at the barest of touch. So that was why his brother had been gentle. He peers up back to his brother and sees him staring at him patiently, expecting something. Feliciano knows and understands what it is and so sighs quietly through his nose and nods along, already on his way to get up from the bed.

He hears Lovino mutter about movies he would never finish and Feliciano thinks it’s appropriate to apologise for it, “Sorry,” he tells him. The response he gets is a smack on his (not bruised) cheek and a “You’re out.”

Feliciano couldn’t help himself but laugh.

In the end, Feliciano muses, nothing could really get past his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feliciano gets to see how cruel the world is, and wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Still in hiatus, tho I write chapters little by little (half and half, really) and publish whenever I finish one. I'll try to get back on answering your comments when stuff irl cools down lol

“Hi, Feli! Looking for Lovi again?”

“Please don’t let my brother hear that from you,” Feliciano smiles, looking around lest the receptionist get in trouble and get fired again. When he deems that the coast is clear, he turns his attention back to the receptionist and his smile drops, slightly. He can’t afford to look impolite.

“To be honest, I don’t know who you are, sorry.” He smiles at her apologetically. His brother had a running record of firing receptionists for offenses such as “flirting with his brother” and “being unprofessional.” Calling him “Lovi” in the workplace is considered an act of the latter.

“I’m Sarah, just got in yesterday.” She says as she leans into the table and offers a hand to shake. “Everyone already got me ‘briefed’ that you’re the brother I shouldn’t ‘make eyes’ with.” She exaggeratedly eyes him up and down and makes a show to lick her lips comically that it makes Feliciano laugh. “Looking at you, I think I can speak for all of my predecessors that it was worth it.”

“I take it my brother is out of the building then?” He asks her, couldn’t help him but let his head look around. He always feel like his brother’s eyes were the walls itself, when it comes to this building. It’s usually barely a minute since he gets in before he sees his brother already down and ready to greet him.

It’s not the kind of greet a regular person would expect, but a greet nonetheless, if Lovino is asked for what it is.

Sarah smiles, returning to her seat behind the counter to tap on her pc and realign some documents. “Yep. Something about,” A couple of clicks and taps, “a Bonnefoy.” She turns to her apologetically. “Sorry about that. I thought he would’ve at least told you?” _Since you are brothers, and all_.

Feliciano simply turns his head left and right. He feels his hand that was holding the lunch bag shift. Sarah was quick to notice and point out. “You want me to give that to him for you?” She sounds like she would about just do anything to make Feliciano smile again and he can appreciate that. People are so nice.

“Oh, no. This was for Antonio, really.”

She seems to perk at this. “Oh, then he’s just in his office.” She taps on her keyboard once and nods. “Yep. If you go up now, you can still meet him before he leaves for lunch.”

Feliciano smiles, “If I get to him on time, he wouldn’t need to eat out anymore today.” He lifts the bag.

“Oh! Is that home-made? I heard you own a restaurant downtown. The... _Coliseum_ , right?”

“Yeah,” Feliciano chokes out. Something large felt like got stuck in his throat and its making his eyes water. “I did.”

There’s confusion blurring Sarah’s eyes for a moment and she squints up at Feliciano, mouth already open to ask but she manages to stop herself on time, a finely manicured hand darts up to cover her mouth as she gasps instead, her face the true image of shock and sympathy.

“Your restaurant is temporarily closed...I heard about the shooting last night.” She pauses, then her eyes soften, her hand still on her mouth to cover her expression. “I’m really sorry.”

Feliciano’s feet back away on instinct, his free hand raised and waving her condolence away. “No, it’s...” He couldn’t find the words to say, his mind darting back to that day yesterday, when he saw Arman on the ground, eyes lifeless and body pale instead of it’s usual healthy glow.

“...Fine.” A shiver runs down his spine and he visibly shivers. It makes Sarah frown at him worriedly from her seat and she couldn’t help but ask, “Are you okay?”

Feliciano was quick to jump away and laugh it all off, “Ah, yes, yes, of course!” Like how he usually does.

“Just, the AC, you know?” He shivers visibly to make his point, lets his free hand rub at his arm.

“It’s real nice talking to you and all, but I think...” He raises his lunch bag, “I need to give this to Antonio before it cools.”

“Ah, right! Go right ahead!” Sarah nods, eager to help as she points at the way to the elevator, by the hall to her right. Before she’s completely out of Feliciano’s hearing range, she manages to ask, “Do you need me to tell him ahead for you?”

Feliciano really debated if she should. For one, the element of surprise will no longer be a boost of sorts, to soften Antonio up. Then again, thinking it through, there’s also a chance that he and Antonio may cross paths without seeing each other, making Feliciano’s efforts at a surprise lunch all for naught.

He really needs to talk to Antonio today, too.

So, with the decision finally settled in his head, he calls after Sarah to tell his affirmative, then he’s off again. He nods and greets the guard by the elevators a cheerful hello and presses for the topmost floor before breathing deeply, preparing himself.

 _Be the bubbly, adorable little brother, Feliciano_.

 

* * *

 

               “Feli! What’s up?”

Feliciano smiles as soon as he sees Antonio’s face upon entering his office. He’s glad to note that the man isn’t entertaining some guest---yet. Bonnefoy or not, he don’t think he can actually get to start the topic when some (most) of it is still some kind of a bad word to say to anyone that hates Kirkland.

To be honest, Feliciano doesn’t think there’s anyone who likes that man at all.

“I brought lunch!” He raises the bag high for Antonio to see and Feliciano’s smile widens as he watches Antonio’s eyes go wide with delight.

“Ooh, is that home made?”

Feliciano laughs, dropping it gently on top of Antonio’s table with little to no regard to the documents spread on it. Antonio being in a good mood right now, he knows that he is already forgiven way long before he starts doing something that other will deem bad.  Antonio likes to dote on his little brother, after all.

Feliciano is planning to use it to its fullest.

“Nothing but the best for my hard-working big brother!”

“Oh, you’re spoiling me too much!” Is Antonio’s reply. He’s already working on getting rid of the documents on his table, their worth nothing more than scraps of paper that will get in the way of him eating a delicious meal. Feliciano doesn’t even bother stealing a glance at the papers, to see what they’re about---whether they’re illegal or not, that is---as his eyes were focused on Antonio’s expression. Will they flicker or not? He could never really tell anymore these days on how Antonio reacts to certain things, whether it’ll get him angry or not and could Feliciano keep the angry bouts to a minimum, at least until he gets to ask for a little favour. That anger is also useful, if directed to the right kind of target too, now that Feliciano gets to think about it.

Feliciano’s track of thoughts were cut into a halt when Antonio opens a container and grins into the opening, giving Feliciano a delighted smile. “This is...?”

Feliciano inhales happily, plopping down on a seat in front of Antonio’s desk. _Bubbly, adorable little brother_ , he reminds himself and so he puts both of his hands together on his knees and smiles sheepishly, making sure that he mumbles but let it be audible enough for Antonio to hear every word. “Tomato soup, just the way you liked it!” He gives him a thumbs up for added effect, and it works.

Antonio’s face flushes as he laughs some more, his eyes squinted so hard that Feliciano could barely see the other’s eyes.

It doesn’t take a while for Antonio to reach halfway into finishing the decently large meal Feliciano prepared just for him, the older man now fully relaxed in his seat as he happily chew through his pasta---liberally dripping in tomato sauce made from pure, freshly-picked ones too---made just the way Antonio specifically liked it and it somehow makes Feliciano feel bad. Antonio did look somewhat tired and having gotten the time to look around his office, he got to understand that putting all these responsibilities on one man is difficult.

He couldn’t help but frown.

“What’s wrong?” Feliciano’s head perks up and he’s met with the sight of Antonio, face stuffed with as much as he could eat, some sauce smeared on the corner of his lips. This reminds Feliciano of the times when Antonio truly was the older brother he never had, the one who Lovino never really got to be in Feliciano’s life and it just adds to the guilt that he feels for ever thinking about using Antonio for his own gain.

Antonio has already so much going on with himself, especially with his Salvatore too...

His silence caused Antonio to sigh, finishing the last of what he’s chewing and swallows them down with a hefty gulp of water. “Is this about the _Colliseum_?”

“H-huh?”

Antonio leans over the desk to put his hand on Feliciano’s shoulder, “You can’t exactly hide that thing to me; not when Lovi had been so mad about you cooperating with the cops with the investigation and all.” The hand on his shoulder tightens, “He’s right, you know.” Then the hand is gone and Antonio is back on his seat again, in the process of returning to his food.

This should tell a regular person that the conversation is over, definitely. But with the way Antonio’s face has returned to its usual expression---guarded, on alert, and ready to strike---it just meant that he’s yet to drop the conversation at all.

Feliciano swallows, realising that Antonio somehow turned the tables on him. His plan isn’t as subtle as he would’ve thought it was, in the end.

“But, my boys...” He begins, trying to make his side of the story be heard, properly, this time. He’s shut down, however, his voice getting stuck in his throat when he sees Antonio’s hand raised, prompting for Feliciano’s silence and he follows. He feels his hands bunch up on his lap. He starts feeling small and insignificant, unimportant.

_Take Feliciano and hide!_

_Don’t ever let Feliciano see these again!_

_Don’t let Feliciano...!_

“Are important to you and I understand, Feli.”

“What?” He perks up again, his heart beating too fast in his chest and his head is pounding. He wonders how he can manage to hear the rest of what Antonio is going to say. “You do?”

Antonio actually smiles, and it reassures Feliciano, like how they always did whenever he worries over something that he thinks can never end well anymore.

“Of course.”

Feliciano was just about to return the smile when Antonio suddenly drops his; an arm pulls out a drawer in his desk to pull out a notepad and drops it on the table. He wipes his hands with a paper towel as he sighs, and Feliciano knows that that expression has never been good. He feels his hands clench into fists, his palms wet with cold sweat.

He couldn’t feel himself breathe as he watches his older brother flip through the notepad and rip a page out. Antonio reads through the lines of text he had written in there not too long ago for the nth time and finally hands it to Feliciano to see.

He takes it with shaking hands, fingers wet and it smudges the edges of the paper with his sweat.

Written in the notepad were three words, enumerated from top to bottom.

These are names.

Of his missing boys.

Feliciano feels his voice catch in his throat, his tongue heavy like lead. He manages, in the end. “Th, these are my boys.”

Antonio nods. What Antonio says next confuses him, “We found them last night wandering our territory. Mostly near The Colliseum.”

“Why didn’t they come home? Their parents had been worried sick.”

Antonio rests his head on his hand, that he had now propped on the table. He looks to the side for a moment, then seems to have managed to compose himself as he stares back at Feliciano. He remains silent, before opening his mouth and running his tongue at the back of his teeth, he breathes out, slowly, “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

 

* * *

 

               Felciano was taken to a hospital.

He shouldn’t have really been surprised, but he was anyway. He felt himself going weak in the knees as he stood in the reception area, asking for his boys’ room. He was directed without any questions asked and he almost collapses when they make it to the elevator.

He apologizes to his chauffeur, one of Antonio’s men. He gets  a shake of the head for his troubles.

“Wait...!” He says, his voice shaking. It makes the chauffeur stop in his tracks, hand already around the knob, a push away from Feliciano seeing his boys alive and well. He hopes they are well.

“I,” He starts to say, then he looks around the empty hallway left and right. It’s an endless path of white and grey, the silence hitting him in the chest like a heavy stone, making it difficult to breathe.

It’s not too late. He can still turn his back and run away, never to come back.                                              

But then he remembers their parents’ faces; their voices as they wept and begged him to find their sons. He just couldn’t turn his back on those people, not when he’s the reason why this happened to the boys in the first place.

He inhales, and ends up choking. He pushes forward, anyway and opens the door himself.

What he sees brings relief to his soul.

The rest of his boys: Adam, Jason, and Angelo---they were lying in bed, bodies covered in rolls of white gauze and bandages. But there were slight smiles on their faces as they talk amongst themselves in whispers. They all turn their heads to look at the door when they hear it open, and Feliciano was glad to see that their faces remained to be in high spirits upon seeing him.

They all say at the same time, “Feli!” And it feels like yesterday had never happened. Feliciano hastens his pace and hugs them all, kissing both of their cheeks as he feels tears drip out of his eyes. He lands on Adam’s bed, who seemed to had the worse of them three. His left eye was covered with a gauze and the rest of his face is full of scratches, deep and light. There’s a cut on the side of his lip, probably bitten when he was punched or kicked.

He pats Adam’s head, “What happened to you three?”

Angelo, who was lying on the bed left of Adam replies, “Kirkland,” he starts. He sounded down---ashamed---as he puts his head down and refuses to look Feliciano in the eye. At the mention of the name, the other two followed suit, their hands coming together in some sort of prayer. Feliciano notices something off about them but couldn’t tell what.

“We thought, it’s going to be fun. We got your guns, there’s six of us and two of them. We weren’t planning on hurting the kid, we swear. We just wanted to scare the bastard off, maybe make him learn his lesson not to do that shit to kids again, but---“ Angelo’s voice stutters to a halt. Their breaths all hitch, as if it’s the three of them telling the story, not just Angelo.

“We were so stupid...” Jason shakes his head, raising his arm to wipe at his face as he starts crying.

“Now we’re...” Adam croaks, “...useless.”  He raises his hands, shaking and wrapped in bandages, for Feliciano to see.

“Kirkland made sure of that himself.”

It takes him a moment to understand, and when he finally does, he felt his heart shatter. He turns towards the other two, who has their bandaged hands raised too for Feliciano to see and he cries anew.

How can Kirkland be like them but not at the same time? How can this world be so beautiful but also be mercilessly cruel? Feliciano asks himself these every day, every night as he pray by his bed and had never come up with an answer. He had always believed in the good and the right, but now, gazing at these boys’ shattered dreams and futures, he wonders.

He really, truly, wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Colliseum is a fictional italian resto created specifically for this fanfic. Any establishment that may share the name/event that occured is a mere coincidence.  
> **If you read seduction of the innocent, then you know what happened to these boys.  
> For those who didn't, it's alright. It's going to be in the next chapter. And the chapter after that.

**Author's Note:**

> *To those confused why Feliciano weeps whenever "kirkland fancies a new child" is because arthur is a pedophile is every sense of the word.  
> *Come non detto (tell no one) is a genuine italian gay film. Real nice and sweet. You can give it a watch too if you want.  
> *The Coliseum is a fake resto and I have a really bad memory, so I think I never mentioned in the other fic that this mafia au is set in new york? lol


End file.
